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Yeah so I write poetry
pretty lame
6 notes
1 day ago - Reblog

Hey so if I started posting new stuff would anyone care. It’s been awhile

7 notes
1 year ago - Reblog

hardy

smoking crack with

penny whore.

funny then, not

anymore.

13 notes
1 year ago - Reblog

Pornographic

and here is i, the

      furious masturbator

asleep in

              the

  neon-raintree tap of little kisses

that

      is she

-

and here is i, never

      to curl in the strawberry

hair-flip as

               she’ll do

             as

                 you

                       please

but in the weepy

                   needs-the-cash and

                there, she

is forever

14 notes
1 year ago - Reblog

And your brassier is now a ladle

If a mother pumps her nipples with some

machine or

questionable patron, through

infancy and

far

beyond,

they’ll stain a summer’s neglige

regardless of proportion.

                                        for

she was fucking gardeners well

into her 60’s and

no one’s

going

hungry

3 notes
1 year ago - Reblog
Anonymous: do you have any ebooks or paper books or anything where I can give you money for your poems without becoming an old-school patron because I'm not rich enough for that.

im kinda working on it…. i dont really know how to go about it though, it confuses me

91 notes
1 year ago - Reblog

maybe if i were more climactic i wouldnt be so bad in bed

i hope they never really beat me

never rape my wife and

break my bones

i mean

I’ve

broke a couple bones, but

i hope

they

never really do,

-

i hope

they

never really do

anything

at all

-

i pray for a succession

of minor catastrophes

-

the Missus’ll silently irk

though she’ll stick around for something’s sake

and drink herself to sleep

and

i’ll smell disgust,

fuming in a summer clear where i

have made a picnic and she

wont say a word

but she’ll never kill me

never cut my cock off and throw in the lake.

she’ll never burn my house down and

i’ll never bruise her face

-

the poems’ll take me nowhere and

I’ll knock a couple back before

i take the kids to school

and sure,

they’ll stop eating all my lunches

and tell their mother give them money, where

she’ll reach into my pocket when i planned

to buy a book

but they’ll never tie the rope

never steal my rifle and cleanse a quiet preschool

they’ll never drown the cat

and i’ll never pawn their game boy.

-

and this would be ideal,

for

-

if i couldn’t find some purpose 

in writing something about nothing

well,

i wouldn’t write much of anything

at all

33 notes
1 year ago - Reblog

magic

when they dropped me off,

listening to

some shitty song

on the radio and

-

there you were

same station, same

shitty

song,

right where i left off

-

now that,

was magic.

-

shitty magic

19 notes
1 year ago - Reblog

for you, my love

no justice i

could bring to this

and thus, a pen

              in praying

loves you all as

in a mothers mouth’s

a child’s

   saying

93 notes
1 year ago - Reblog

oh doctor

the day is done

oh doctor, i

forgot

about the children,

come now,

write me rubber soles.

could you write me rubber?

their humming rests a fuming pass and

pigs align all

pensive in their acrid shell.

oh doctor,

write them better teeth in

custom, write

them better smell

-

they were laughing in the haul and

i had nothing to defend

and off to boxes

you were born

oh doctor

write me better

friends

29 notes
1 year ago - Reblog

the moor is nodding now

oh man, the

moor is nodding now.

sleep again oh

sleep to sun.

the surface is a

circus now,

the sum of which,

too deep, is done.